Billionaire Wife's Cruel Game Cost My Dad's Life

I sat in the empty living room, cradling Dad's urn.

My phone screen lit up again. It was Eliza.

The ringtone blared for a long time, cut out, and then started up again.

I stared at her name as if it were a complete stranger's.

Finally, the ringing stopped.

A few seconds later, an audio message came through from one of her friends.

I tapped it. The background was noisy, and Leon's voice drifted through. "Just ignore him, Ms. Wood. You can't spoil him. The more you give in, the worse he gets."

Then came Eliza's cold tone. "Shawn, don't overthink this. The five-million-dollar ad campaign is only because Leon just joined the company. As my assistant, he needs this to build his authority.

"Reflect on yourself, and I expect the house to be spotless by tomorrow. Otherwise, you can forget about that one million dollars."

I listened with a blank face. My finger slid across the screen to save the audio.

Then I texted back. "See you at the courthouse tomorrow morning."

…

The next morning, I went to the courthouse.

The lobby was crowded with people from all walks of life, each there for a different reason.

I sat on a bench in the corner, clutching my queue ticket.

9:00 am.

9:30 am.

10:00 am.

Eliza never showed up.

I sent her a text. "I'm waiting for you at the courthouse."

It wasn't until almost noon that Eliza's other assistant, Cody Duncan, finally called.

"Mr. Hardy, Ms. Wood is in a meeting. She doesn't have time for your tantrums. She said you should stop acting like a child. Also, she's having dinner at home tonight. Make sure you prepare her favorite honey-glazed ribs."

With a sharp beep, the line went dead.

I stood in the middle of the noisy lobby, holding my phone as the glances from people around me pierced like needles.

A tantrum?

Dad was dead. His ashes were barely cold, and to her, I was just throwing a tantrum?

A surge of rage rushed from the soles of my feet to the top of my head, burning away every ounce of sanity.

I dialed back.

Cody answered, his voice dripping with impatience. "Mr. Hardy, I already told you—"

"Put Eliza on the phone!" I screamed into the receiver, my voice echoing so loudly that the entire lobby fell silent.

"Tell her if she doesn't take the call, I will jump from the top of the Wood Corp building right in front of her office window!"

Perhaps my tone carried too much finality, or maybe the threat of jumping spooked him. After a brief rustle of static, Eliza's voice came through.

It vibrated with suppressed fury. "Shawn Hardy, are you done losing your mind? Don't yell in a public place. Even if you don't care about your reputation, I care about mine!"

Hearing her voice actually calmed me down.

After that peak of pure rage, a chilling calm settled in.

"Eliza, I haven't lost my mind. I'm only asking you one thing. Are we getting a divorce or not?"

Eliza scoffed. "A divorce? On what grounds? Get real, Shawn. You live off my money, and I even paid for your dad's medical bills. Leon is just my assistant. He's better than you and more driven than you. Are you jealous of him?

"The position of my husband will always be yours, as long as you behave. Stop using divorce to threaten me. It doesn't work."

Her tone was utterly confident, as if she were absolutely certain I could never leave her.

Too bad for her, that Shawn was already dead.

I reached into my pocket and touched a crumpled bankbook. It was the last thing Dad left me.

There were 20 thousand dollars inside—everything he had managed to save by living frugally.

He used to say, "Shawn, if Eliza ever makes you feel miserable, take this money, buy a ticket, and come home."

I was miserable, but I couldn't go home anymore because my home was gone.